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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/books/action/view/entry_id/770652
Rated: 18+ · Book · Other · #1911337
Original stories/poems before word count and/or prompt adherement revisions.
#770652 added July 3, 2013 at 5:45pm
Restrictions: None
StrongWoman - revised for publication
Consider: http://www.glimmertrain.com/veryshort.html
July 31st deadline!


“StrongWoman” by Ashley Faith

I can honestly say when I woke up this morning and donned my yoga pants, the last place I expected to be that evening was collapsed on my trainer’s couch.
Head reeling, mind spinning, I tried my hardest to focus on the sweat streaked torso far away in my line of sight. After fumbling for my spectacles and correcting my nearsightedness, I realized the torso belonged to Matt, my recent torturer. I tried not to ponder the curve of his back as I slowly eased myself off the sofa and joined him on the porch.

“Have a nice nap?” The teasing timbre of his husky voice distracted me, interrupting my fun game of ‘follow the perspiration’. Who knew gazing at salt water excretions could be so titillating? Maybe if they weren’t sliding down the most fascinating of canvasses, I’d be able to keep my wits about me. Forcing myself to look him in the face I grinned impishly.

“It was positively divine, and well-earned if I must say so myself. I think you seriously tried to kill me today.” I gave him my best reproachful stare but was sure it appeared to be more of a pained pout. He laughed and turned his attention over the balcony. Following his line of sight I saw a half dozen striped burglar creatures gathered a few feet away from the building. “What are they doing?”

“Scavenging I suppose. I threw them my Chipotle scraps from a few days ago. That and some left over pineapple that had gone a little too ripe for my taste.” I tried not to grimace. Why on earth would the man purposely feed the neighborhood raccoons? I knew him to be an animal lover, he was a single man with three cats after all, but this was a bit much. “Are you still sore?”

I looked at him sarcastically, “I wasn’t asleep that long. Reckon it’s gonna be a minute afore I no longer feel these aches.” I stretched dramatically and groaned emphatically. He chuckled.

“Feels good though doesn’t it?” I knew what he meant. He wasn’t referring to the lactic acid currently coursing through my veins, or the slight jolts of pain I felt in my knees and back if I moved the wrong way too fast. No, he was referring to It, the other feeling, the transcendence, the light headedness, the euphoria. I’d never had a workout like it before. Of course I’d never pushed myself to the limit like that before either. I had cleared 12 reps of 180 lbs, loaded a 250 lb Atlas stone 10 times, pushed my own car, and completed what seemed like countless other Strongman tasks. The day was a blur; I had literally given it everything I had.

About three quarters of the way through my rotations It started, the near out of body experience, the high. I looked at the celestial being next to me and wondered if he knew just how much of an otherworldly excursion he had led me on with his firm but kind direction. I remembered hating him after that first rotation, loathing him after the second, and pre-meditating his slow and painful death by the third; but now, basking in the depths of this afterglow I couldn’t help but respect and appreciate him.

“If you want to go lay back down for a bit you can, guess I did work you pretty hard today.” He smiled sheepishly and perhaps slightly apologetic; he was so cute when he cared. I stretched again, wincing as my elbow came level with my head.

“Think I’ll take you up on that, don’t feel I’m fit to drive just yet.” I pawed through a stack of CDs on the mantelpiece, stopping when I happened upon a classical piece. I raised an eyebrow, perhaps it was presumptuous of me to be surprised by such musical art amongst the array of Van Halen, Goo Goo Dolls, and assorted rock discs, but I was shocked none the less. Matt Harper was just full of surprises wasn’t he? Then again, this is the same man who dressed up as an old lady for Halloween a couple weeks ago. I chuckled to myself as I remembered seeing the burly man decked out in hair rollers, green night cream, and a pink moo-moo. No, you never quite knew what to expect with Mr. Matt. I tried not to grin too wide when I recalled being one of the few he had lifted his moo-moo for, showing off his garter belt and tights. The formal underwear had thrown the muscles of his Herculean thighs into sharp relief and really set off the whole ensemble quite nicely if I must say so myself, though I’d never admit it out loud. Trainers like him didn’t go for girls like me. No matter, as long as I was able to partake in some sort of heavenly experiences with him; I would take all I could get.

As I heard the first verses of a Chopin piece waft through the air, I felt It coming for me again. Just how long before It wore off? Would I feel It again the next time I worked out? Would I have to push myself to the near stretching point of my limit every time to come back Here? As I closed my eyes and listened to the mellifluous orchestra, at times overshadowed with the staccato of hissing rodents fighting over the best piece of fruit, I allowed myself to be lulled into a state of ‘blissfully unaware’. Floating towards the abyss of unconsciousness I smiled to myself, today I had become a StrongWoman and I’d had the spiritual experience to prove it.

Enter 'Mandy'/'Handy'
And later 'Merry'/Kelly (Brit-American)
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Word count: 951
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Original: "StrongWoman
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